


When In The Future, Do As The Aliens Do

by Winterironsoldier



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Back to the Future References, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 06:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterironsoldier/pseuds/Winterironsoldier
Summary: “Hello? Pizza delivery for, uh…” He peers down at the table and his heart drops in his chest. “I.C. Wiener?” He called out blandly.





	When In The Future, Do As The Aliens Do

_ December 31st, 1999 _

_ 11:36pm _

 

“Space. It seems to go on and on forever. But then you get to the end and a gorilla starts throwing barrels at you.” Lance intones in his best impression of a cool, ominous voiceover. His hand is slack in his grip on the joystick, slack but not slack enough for him to be defeated by the tiny enemy spaceships shooting at him. Bastards, didn’t they know who they were dealing with? 

He’s Lance Villanueva, sharpshooter and best video game player in the entire galaxy. Monkeys, apes, gorillas, whatever, are no match for his quick reflexes. In times of stress, he is the only one who can protect their virtual planet, not even K.G. can defeat him. Whoever that bastard with the highest reigning scoreboard is.

When the groaning of several kids meet his ears, he can’t help the grin that pulls over his lips. At this exact moment, with his attention diverted, his spaceship explodes into hundreds of tiny pixels and an ominous green ‘GAME OVER’ sign takes over the screen. The pixilated gorilla was laughing at him now but he didn't care too much, this was a daily occurrence. “And that's how you play the game.” He finished lamely.

The blond kid that had been watching him the entire time, scrunches his face up, “You stink, loser!”

Wow, what a brazen insult for such a little twerp. Lance blinked down at him but before he could respond to the him, the heavy foot falls of his boss stops him. Honestly, it’s the best way to make him shut his trap. The last thing he needed was to get fired at this stage.

“Hey, Lance. Pizza going out.” The balding man, his boss, yelled as he held a box marked ‘Hephaestus’s Pizza’ out to him. 

Of all the jobs in the city, he had to be saddled down with being a delivery boy for a run down pizza shop that no one even ordered from anymore. Whether this was from all the bad codes from the health department or the lack of any real flavor going on in the pizza, he didn't know or care. At least it pays well.

“Villanueva!” His irate boss hissed from the counter. Right, he has a pizza to deliver. Whoops. He suspects that his boss doesn’t like working here that much either, honestly.

With a final sigh, he grabs the still warm box and heads out into the cool night breeze. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’d get run over. Anything is better than being a delivery boy.

 

* * *

 

 

_ 11:50pm _

 

He stops his bicycle in front of Applied Cryogenics, it’s an old rundown lab that nobody goes into anymore. He felt doubt come over him. Did scientists even eat pizza? Why were they even still at work on New Years?  

Sadly, he doesn’t get paid enough to ask questions, so he drags his feet into the large building and makes his way to the elevator. Inside, it has metal handle rods and a red carpet. Cool. He rides it up to the 64th floor- a direct request made by the orderer- and then knocks on the only wooden door in his immediate sight.

No answer. Nada. Zip. Nope. Nothing.

He didn’t just ride his bike all the way here just to ride it all the way here and no door is going to get in his way of delivering this damn pizza. He pushes the door open with his shoulder- breaking and entering, much?

Right away, a few cryogenic tubes that made up one wall catch his interest and he sets the pizza box on a desk. The tubes are long, clear and in fully working condition. Apparently they’re still being used? What?

Out of curiosity, he wipes the condensation off of one of them and peers in- Holy shit. He stares into wide brown eyes and stumbles backwards. That is a frozen human. A human that is frozen and in a tube. Frozen human popsicle. 

Lucky bastard.

He turns from the popsicle a la human and glances around the empty room. “Hello? Pizza delivery for, uh…” He peers down at the table and his heart drops in his chest. “I.C. Wiener?” He called out blandly. Okay, so maybe he should’ve read the label before biking all the way here.

Seeing as the pizza would be deducted from his pay anyways, he took a seat at the desk and leaned back in the sleek wooden chair. A six-pack of beer was next to him and he clicks it open.

“Here's to another lousy millennium.” He muses, raising his can to no one in particular. Maybe the frozen guy would toast with him if he unfroze him- Nah, better to just let the poor bastard be.

A few New Years’ party favors are around him, he guesses that someone had partied here at some point. He places his beer down and tilts back in his chair as he blows a party popper for no real reason than to just blow it.

The chair gives and he’s falling, tumbling and by some strange luck, he topples right into the a cryogenic tube. What happened next was, well, history.


End file.
